


What Happens on Terronda Stays on Terronda

by jdale



Series: What Happens on Terronda Stays on Terronda (Until It Doesn’t) [1]
Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Dinner on Alien Planets, Drunk Elizabeth Weir, Drunken Flirting, Drunken Kissing, F/M, Internal Monologue, POV John Sheppard, Snarky John Sheppard
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-25
Updated: 2019-10-25
Packaged: 2021-01-03 03:10:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21172454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jdale/pseuds/jdale
Summary: Looking back on it now, John supposes he should be glad Elizabeth’s not a mean drunk, but in that moment, he would almost have preferred it if she were. Mean drunks he knows how to deal with. His incredibly hot boss coming on to him while drunk…not so much.





	What Happens on Terronda Stays on Terronda

“The Athosians and the Terrondans have been trading partners for as long as I can remember,” Teyla explained. “They are a peaceful people.”

“And their resources won’t be stretched too thin by adding another trading partner to their portfolio?” Elizabeth asked.

“Not at all,” Teyla assured her. “They raise enough livestock to support a population many times their size. They have more than enough excess meat and dairy to trade for their other necessities.”

Elizabeth nodded. “And in our case, they want to trade for medical supplies?”

“That is correct,” Teyla confirmed.

Elizabeth leaned back in her chair. “Sounds doable.”

“What should we expect while we’re there?” John asked.

“There will be a large celebration,” Teyla told them. “The Terrondans’ response to the constant threat of the Wraith has been to adopt the philosophy that tomorrow is never certain, so one must enjoy oneself today while one still can.”

Elizabeth hummed. “Any specific ceremonies or rituals we’ll be expected to participate in?”

“It will depend on who is hosting,” Teyla replied. With a smile and a suppressed chuckle, she continued, “Party planning is considered an art form among the Terrondans.”

“Well, then I’d like you to stick close by so that if there is a ceremony, you can guide us through it,” John requested.

“Do not worry,” Teyla responded. “If there is a formal ceremony of some sort, it will not be very elaborate. The focus of the evening will be on celebration, not ritual.”

“So in theory, it shouldn’t be that much different from any of the various embassy balls I’ve attended back on Earth,” Elizabeth remarked. “Of course, I’ve also found that theory only rarely corresponds to reality when it comes to Pegasus, so let’s stay on our toes, people. The Terrondans consented to us bringing along some security?”

Teyla nodded. “Yes. They understand that it is only to guard against the possibility of the Wraith showing up uninvited.”

Elizabeth turned to John. “What’s your recommendation?”

“Major Lorne’s team in a cloaked Jumper just outside the settlement; Major Rutherford’s team and Lieutenant Edison’s team guarding the gate,” John proposed.

“I’d like to make one change to that,” Elizabeth countered. “Major Lorne’s team stays with our Jumper instead of taking a separate one. That way, if we have to leave in a hurry, we only have to deal with one Jumper instead of two.”

John nodded. “Fair enough.”

* * *

John had never been to an embassy ball, but Elizabeth had been right in her conclusion that the event the Terrondans had planned wouldn’t be too alien to them: at least at first, it had reminded him of a civilian version of a dining-in. The steak, a nicely marbled T-bone that he guessed was probably around 18 ounces, had been cooked to perfection, and the side dishes were similarly tasty. As the night wore on, however, the attendees started to become more raucous, including several who were engaging in _very_ open displays of affection, and the event began to remind John more of a fancy nightclub. He suspected the open bar had something to do with it.

Just then, Elizabeth sat down next to him and pulled him into a one-armed hug. In her free hand, she held a glass of something lurid pink in color and—_is that stuff _glowing_?_ John wondered silently.

“Hey, John,” Elizabeth sighed, letting her head drop onto his shoulder.

“What _is_ that?” John asked.

Elizabeth shrugged. “Dunno what it’s called. Kinda reminds me of a Singapore Sling, though. Wanna try some?” she offered, holding the glass out to him.

John eyed the beverage warily but accepted the glass and slowly raised it to his lips. Immediately he pulled a face. Whatever they used to make that thing had some _serious_ kick. _Probably the local equivalent of Bacardi 151,_ he mused.

“Whaddaya think?” Elizabeth asked expectantly.

“All that’s missing is the tiny paper umbrella,” he quipped, handing the drink back to her.

“I know, right?” Elizabeth agreed, taking a long sip. “Maybe we can add that to the trade agreement. Tiny paper umbrellas to put in their cocktails.”

“How many of those have you had?” John asked suspiciously.

“Oh, just the one,” Elizabeth assured him. “Don’t worry, sweetie, you won’t hafta carry me home.”

_Sweetie?_ John thought. Aloud, he said, “You’ll forgive me if I don’t believe you.”

“Well, Ronon, Teyla, and I all sampled each other’s drinks—but I only had a sip of each!” Elizabeth told him earnestly. “I didn’t like Ronon’s drink. Too bitter. Teyla’s was better. Like a tequila sunrise with Fanta instead of orange juice. Rodney wouldn’t let any of us try his. It sorta looked like a piña colada but blue.”

“I think that’s called a Swimming Pool,” John heard himself say. _What are you _doing_? _his inner voice scolded him. _Don’t encourage her!_

“Why didn’t I think of that?” Elizabeth asked, tilting her head up to kiss his jawline. “Ooh, that tickles. I kinda like it, though. It’s very _you_. Prickly on the outside, but once you get to know the man behind the mask, he’s just a big softie, aren’tcha?”

John placed a firm hand on her shoulder and deliberately slid to the far end of the divan. “Okay, we’re not doing this.”

When he saw the pouty expression on Elizabeth’s face, it took all of John’s self-control not to change his mind and jump her right then and there. _Whoa, power down, Sheppard,_ he ordered himself. _She’s still your boss, even when she’s drunk and coming on to you._

John was drawn out of his thoughts when Elizabeth once again closed the distance between them, pressing her breasts up against his side. “Aww, what’sa matter, John?” she asked. “Am I too plain Jane for you?”

“No?” he replied slowly.

His inner voice was rapidly reaching the end of its rope with him. _For crying out loud, Sheppard, don’t encourage her! Just keep your damn mouth shut!_

“Then what is it?” Elizabeth asked. The hand she wasn’t using to hold her drink was now running its fingers through his hair. “Don’tcha think I’m sexy?”

John did his best to put on a stern expression. “Elizabeth, you’re drunk.”

Elizabeth _giggled_. “What gave you that idea? I’m not some little girl who just turned 21 and doesn’t know her limit yet. I can reliably handle three drinks without getting too badly sloshed, and after a meal that size, I could probably get away with a fourth and still keep enough wits about me to survive a taxi ride home.”

She held up her glass, which was still about a quarter full, before declaring, “I haven’t even finished one yet!”

John sighed. “While I don’t doubt that that would be true on Earth, from the small sip I had of that thing, it tasted like whatever they use to make it is distilled to a significantly higher proof than most Earth liquor. One of those is probably equivalent to one and a half or two drinks made with Earth booze.”

Frowning, Elizabeth lifted the glass to her lips once more and took an experimental sip. “You know, now thatcha mention it, it does taste a bit more alcohol-y than a lot of cocktails. Probably oughta stop after two, then, huh?”

A worried expression crossed John’s face. “I think maybe you should just finish the one you’ve got now and then call it a night.”

Elizabeth looked thoughtful. “Yeah, it probably would be kinda hard to make love with a drink in one hand, wouldn’t it?”

John brought his free hand up to his face and let his head drop into it. “Elizabeth, we are _not_ doing that. I’m your second-in-command, remember?”

She giggled again. “Not tonight, you’re not. Tonight, we’re just a guy and a girl looking to have a good time. C’mon, it’ll be fun!” she said encouragingly, prying his hand away from his face and planting a long, slow kiss on his lips that he found himself involuntarily returning.

_Wow, even when she’s drunk, she might be the best kisser in two galaxies,_ John thought.

_Snap out of it, Sheppard!_ his inner voice ordered. _If there’s one thing your father did right, it’s that he taught you to be a gentleman._

Reluctantly, he pushed her away to arm’s length. “No, Elizabeth. I’m not going to take advantage of you when you’re drunk.”

Elizabeth sighed. With the tone of one explaining something to a small child, she replied, “We’ve been over this, John. I’m not drunk yet, just a little tipsy! C’mon, John, you know you want me.”

_Well, shit,_ John thought. He couldn’t deny it without outright lying to her, which he didn’t want to do, but he also didn’t want to indulge her when he knew that regardless of whatever hidden feelings she may have for him, she would never even consider acting on them if not for the overproof liquor.

“Which is _why_ I want our first time to be when we’re both in full possession of our faculties,” he eventually responded, hoping it wouldn’t be brought up again in the light of day.

Elizabeth’s expression was a mix of disappointment and understanding. “Yeah, I guess I can see that. It wouldn’t be very fun to finally make love after we’ve been dancing around each other for two years and then not be able to remember it in the morning. Not that I usually drink so much I can’t remember what I did. Except that one time at Megan McAnally’s wedding where she and her husband thought it would be funny to spike the punch without telling anyone, and then two of the _other_ guests _also_ decided to spike the punch, not knowing it had already _been_ spiked. I never did find out what happened to the shoes I was wearing that night…”

Seeing John’s _look_, she continued, “…but that doesn’t really matter. They were cheap knockoffs, anyway. Anyhow, even if you don’t wanna go all the way, we can still kiss, right?”

John resisted the urge to snatch the drink from her hand and finish it himself. _More booze is exactly what this situation _doesn’t_ need,_ he reminded himself.

“Look, I don’t want to make things awkward between us—” John began.

“It doesn’t have to be awkward,” Elizabeth interrupted. “It can be like Las Vegas. What happens on Terronda stays on Terronda.”

_You could never be just a fling for me, Lizbeth._ John barely managed to stop himself from saying the words out loud. That was a fight he _really_ didn’t want to have with her in this state.

Elizabeth apparently chose to interpret his extended silence as assent, because the next thing he knew, her mouth was on him again. Primal instinct took over, and John returned the kiss eagerly, his tongue slipping inside her mouth as easily as if they had done this a thousand times before. Elizabeth wrapped her arms around him and pulled herself into his lap as the kiss deepened.

“I didn’t realize you hadger sidearm on you, John. Or maybe I should call it a center-arm?” Elizabeth said teasingly when their lips parted, promptly dissolving into giggles at her own joke.

John took the moment while Elizabeth was distracted to wonder idly whether he could get away with claiming in his report that the cocktails had contained a mild aphrodisiac. On the one hand, he knew Earth wouldn’t punish them for anything they did while supposedly under alien influence, but on the other, if the higher-ups thought that were the case, Atlantis might be ordered to terminate its trading partnership with the Terrondans. _Of course, given some of what the natives are getting up to,_ he thought darkly as he took another glance around the room, _I may not be wrong._

That thought sent John’s eyes on a second trip around the room, this time hoping to locate the rest of his team. Rodney and Carson were the easiest to find—they hadn’t left the table where the group had eaten dinner. Rodney was passed out in his chair, one empty glass sitting upright on the table in front of him and a second lying on its side, his head apparently having knocked it over when he passed out. Carson had one arm draped over Rodney protectively, his free hand holding a tumbler of what looked from afar like something akin to a Rusty Nail.

Ronon had migrated over to where the musicians were set up, and if John strained his ears, he could just barely make out the sound of Ronon singing along to the tune in a horribly off-key voice. Teyla, meanwhile, was—_okay, I did _not_ need to see that,_ John thought, quickly turning his attention back to the much more appropriately-clad woman next to him. _Good grief, except for me and maybe Carson, depending on how many of those he’s had, Elizabeth might be the least drunk person in the whole room._

As Elizabeth’s lips claimed his once more, a new thought occurred to John. _You know, as long as she stays content not to go any further than kissing, it might be better to just indulge her so she doesn’t go looking for someone else to give her what she wants and wind up with someone who might not have as many qualms about taking advantage of a drunk woman._

With that in mind, John let one hand slowly slide up Elizabeth’s back and entangle itself in her soft brown curls. After several seconds, he felt Elizabeth take hold of his other hand by the wrist and gently guide it to her breast.

_I thought we decided to stick to kissing,_ he thought frustratedly. As unobtrusively as possible, he slipped his hand through her armpit and brought it to rest on the small of her back. Despite his efforts, she quickly noticed his hand moving away from where she had placed it and broke the kiss, fixing him with the most reproving look her inebriated state would allow her to muster.

“John, I putcher hand there ‘cause that’s where I wantcha to touch me,” Elizabeth told him in her ‘explaining to a small child’ voice.

John sighed, taking a few deep breaths to gather his patience. Before he could reply, however, Elizabeth’s face took on a put-out expression. It was quite possibly one of the cutest things John had ever seen. _Get a hold of yourself, Sheppard!_ his inner voice scolded him.

“You don’t wanna fondle me,” she said sulkily.

John pressed a hand to his forehead once more. “No, Lizbeth, it’s not like that. I just don’t want to ruin things by moving too quickly.”

His inner voice just about lost it. _Wait a minute, WHAT? The fact that you two just made out like a couple of horny teenagers does not give you any sort of claim on her, especially not under these circumstances._

Elizabeth, however, seemed quite satisfied by the response. “Good idea. My mom always told me you never have sex on the first date, ‘cause if you do, that’s all it can ever be is sex. If you want it to last, you have to build the emotional connection first before you bring sex into it. Course, I’d like to think we already love each other, but if you wanna wait till we’re sure, that’s fine.”

With a giggle, she finished, “Waiting’ll just make the sex even better when we do decide we’re ready.”

_Okay, this was not part of the plan,_ John thought. He wasn’t quite sure whether he was hoping she wouldn’t remember this come morning or hoping she would not only remember it but reaffirm her desire for a long-term relationship once she was sober. _Realistically, I doubt either of those are going to happen, but hey, a guy can dream, right?_

“Hey John, can we cuddle when we get home?” Elizabeth asked.

“Sure, Lizbeth. We can even cuddle here if you want,” he offered, hoping she would get her fill of cuddling before they left so she wouldn’t object to them going back to their own separate bedrooms when they returned to Atlantis.

Elizabeth let out a contented hum as she snuggled into his side, letting her head drop onto his chest. “I love you, John.”

John’s only response was to place a gentle kiss on the top of her head and sigh.


End file.
